“Thank you,” I said awkwardly. “I'm sorry it’s taken so long.” Haliath said don’t mention it, so, a thought striking me, I asked, “What happened to my, er, clothes?” I must have turned up dressed as a groom...
“Oh, they’ve been to the laundry and are drying,” said Haliath, apparently unconcerned by the oddness of the garments. Perhaps she didn’t know what a human groom’s uniform looked like. “And the laundry is where I must be,” the she-elf went on. “I hate to think of the chaos that could be unfolding in my absence. You can come with me, if you like, or stay here and rest. Or if you badly want something to do you could help Alvi with that dress,” she added with a humorous glint in her eyes.
“I don’t need any help,” came a swift, sharp retort from the living room.
“Is Alvidra not used to humans?” I asked, as we headed along the passage. “Since she lives in a sheiling-fort, I mean?”
“Ah,” replied Haliath quietly, “that is why she is so nervous of them. She was raised here, where there aren’t any, and then moved to a sheiling-fort, where humans are a much greater danger, and something one must be constantly aware of. And she’s still not used to it.
“In truth,” she added, as she opened the door, “I think that’s why she visits us quite frequently. Coming here gives her room to breathe. So if she’s a bit grouchy sometimes, please don’t mind her.”
Haliath glided off through the fort like a ship under full sail, and I had to scurry to keep up, consequently able to take in very little about my surroundings. But Ystevan had promised me a tour that evening, so I did not mind too much.
~+~
I rode back into the stable courtyard, tired and discouraged by the day’s failure, coming as it did atop yet another night of bad dreams. Leaving Hellion well out of the way at nearby farms, I’d spent all the daylight hours—from the first to the last moment it was light enough to see anything—hidden outside three different elfin forts. No simple hiding behind things, I had wormed into hedges, deep leaf-filled hollows and, most uncomfortably of all, an old badger set.
I’d seen no elfin and tried to make good use of the time chasing those elusive memories. They were coming back, but all too slowly. Sometimes I’d see something that would bring a bit back, all in a rush, but I still couldn’t remember meeting the Queen or what she had said.
Did it matter? She must have said No, or I wouldn’t be back here in London trying to shake the memory of it out of my pillaged skull.
Yielding Hellion to the grooms, I for once went straight up to the house without stopping to oversee his care. I ached all over and my clothes were sodden with damp and mud. Ignoring the servants’ glances, I hurried on. My father would be waiting to eat dinner. I trudged up the stairs as fast as I could force myself to go and soon Susie was peeling me out of my soggy clothes and ushering me to the hot bath that I’d had the blessed foresight to arrange in advance. Raven dived in with a little plop and swam in lazy circles, crooning contentedly to herself. I quickly joined her in the hot water.
I did not luxuriate for long, though, and was soon downstairs again seeking my father. “Pa,” I said gladly, hastening to the couch in the drawing room. The only trouble with all this elfin-hunting was that I saw so little of him. He did not stir, though, so I sat on the edge of the couch and touched one cadaverous cheek gently.
He opened his eyes at last and blinked up at me. “Serapia,” he said, his eyes warming with pleasure. “There you are.”
I felt a twinge of guilt at leaving him alone so much, after he had made it so clear he wanted me around. But I didn’t really have any choice.
“I, ah, I thought we’d eat in here tonight,” he said, in a would-be casual tone, and began to lever himself up into a sitting position.
I bit my lip and hastened to assist him. Just last night, he’d greeted that very same suggestion from me with an impatient, ‘I’m not dead yet, child,’ and requisitioned the assistance of the butler to get into the wheeled chair he was using. He was now so weak that the chair had to be carried up and down stairs at the beginning and end of the day—and it seemed he no longer wanted even to move into that unnecessarily anymore.
His condition was deteriorating so fast.
I stabbed my beef fiercely as I ate. No more hiding and waiting. It wasn’t working. I knew there was an elfin guardian in the city, and I had to find him again, by whatever means possible.
~+~
CHAPTER 34
THE AUDIENCE
I was dreaming. I crouched on the arm of an armchair. My father sat in the chair. His thin face was drawn, and a frown creased his brow as he stared unseeingly into the fire in the hearth. After a moment, he stirred and reached out to pull the bell cord. The butler entered and came to stand beside the chair, while Anna hung about the doorway anxiously.
“Is there any news?” asked my father quietly.
“Not since half an hour ago, my lord,” replied the butler just as quietly, and with a suspicion of gentleness in his tone.
The Duke sighed heavily and covered his eyes with a hand in a gesture that spoke all too clearly of his feeling of impotence.
Anna, apparently unable to help herself, hurried forward into the room. “I'm sure she’s just fine, my lord,” she broke out comfortingly. “She’s a good rider, after all, and that’s a good horse she’s got with her...”
“Yet for all we can tell, they could be anywhere in this world or the next,” retorted Alban in a tired voice. He gave a flick of his hand and the servants withdrew, Anna clearly frustrated by the failure of her comforting words. My father went back to staring into the flames.
I woke in my cozy elfin bed with a start and lay for a moment staring at the ceiling. Everything was dark. Someone must have doused the quartz, and from the quality of the silence it was deep night and everyone else was in bed as well. I was really annoyed. With myself, of course, I could hardly blame Ystevan for not waking me when they were still half treating me as an invalid.
With a sigh I lay back down. Tomorrow I was to see the Queen and the dream had only strengthened my resolve. No doubt Ystevan would show me the fort then as well.
~+~
When I woke again I could sense Haliath and Ystevan moving around, so I got out of bed and pulled on the day dress and boots before joining them for breakfast. Eraldis lifted his head from Ystevan’s shoulder as I entered, staring at me with particular intentness, and Ystevan also looked at me curiously, rising and coming over to me. Eraldis swooped ahead of him and actually deigned to land on my shoulders for the first time, nosing at my hair. I held very still.
Ystevan turned his head this way and that, not exactly sniffing, or not with his nose anyway, and then he raised his hands and ran them through the air a few inches from me, as if touching something invisible.
“Er, what on earth are you doing?” I asked.
He withdrew his hands, apparently satisfied by his examination. “There is power around you. It is dragonic in nature.”
I blinked, surprised, and considered my dream in a new light. “Oh. Then...I think Raven may have sent me a dream. To...let me know how they are, I suppose.”
“Aha,” said Ystevan, with a satisfied nod, and went back to his breakfast. Haliath hadn’t gotten up, though she’d been watching with interest.
I seated myself—carefully, since Eraldis still clung to me—and helped myself to a bowl of heather and nut porridge. So the dream was real. Well, it was nice to see that they were all right, but seeing the anguish I was causing my father made my heart ache. Still, it wasn’t like I was going to stay any longer than I had to. As soon as they agreed to help me, I'd go back to him.
Soon enough—and without accidentally setting fire to my hair, not that I really thought he would—Eraldis leapt into the air, landed back on Ystevan’s shoulders just long enough to give the he-elf an affectionate rub with his head, then flew away up into a little dragonet-sized tunnel in the roof which I’d learned led—eventually—to outside the mountain.
“Eraldis seems to come and go a lot,” I remarked. “Raven almost never leaves my side.”
“She won’t, yet,” said Ystevan. “She needs you to stay warm. When she comes of age, her internal fire will light up and then she’ll be able to keep herself warm. And breathe fire. She’ll get more independent after that. But if you are her Firstling, she will always come back to you.”
“Oh. Good. You know...” I said cautiously, “I do rather have the impression Eraldis...doesn’t like me.”
Ystevan grimaced slightly. “Umm,” he conceded. “He hasn’t entirely taken to you.” He shook his head. “I’m really not sure why, though. He’s usually very friendly with strangers.”
I thought Haliath’s eyebrows twitched up slightly, at that. Did she know why? But she made no comment, so maybe I was mistaken.
~+~
I ran my hands down my dress nervously as I followed a smartly dressed Ystevan along the corridors of the fort. Alvidra had proven very competent with her needle, and the dress fitted as though it’d been made for me, sliding over my hips to flow out around my ankles, the bodice fitting decidedly snugly around my new curviness. I’d never worn a woman’s dress before, only the shapeless girl’s dresses that mimicked the adult style without coming close. Of course, this was a she-elf’s dress, not a woman’s... I had to stop myself from smoothing the dress down yet again.
Haliath had told me I looked very beautiful, which I took with a pinch of salt, knowing my skinniness, but Ystevan, who had said nothing, had shot a couple of looks at me since I’d appeared in it. Perhaps I was attractively curvy among the Elfin, or perhaps something else was bothering him.
I was almost glad of the dress’s distraction, for my thoughts churned with what I would say to the Queen, how I was going to persuade her that my father deserved healing. I’d gone through it in my mind over and over again that morning, until I felt near distracted.
We reached a large pair of double doors, and Ystevan stopped and looked back at me. A definite spark of sympathy lit his green-gold eyes.
“Don’t hope for too much,” he told me softly, and he’d made his opinion clear enough that I knew he meant don’t hope for anything. But I just raised my chin a few inches and squared my jaw. I’d been as good as sent here by a being I had every reason to trust. I would get my help here. I had to.
We entered a chamber so breathtakingly beautiful that I paused mid stride to take it in. It must once have been a natural cave, for walls and ceiling glittered all over with sharp, white crystal, and interspersed amongst these, jewels and gemstones had been set so cunningly that the sparkling white was overshone here and there by a rainbow multitude of color. It was incredible.
After a moment I recollected myself and hurried after Ystevan, who was approaching the dais at the far end of the vaguely oval chamber, around which the elfin counselors stood or sat on benches carved into the walls. The throne on the dais had clearly been cut from the rock itself, and was gilded here and there with gold and silver and other metals, in which were set more jewels. Considering my new-found knowledge of safyrs, did it act as some kind of huge power focus?
The she-elf sitting on the throne looked around fifty to me. She had the black-gold hair of her kind, with slightly more gold than Ystevan and Haliath. Her eyes were firm, if not hard, and she had the poise and manner of a very strong woman...that was, she-elf. A narrow circlet, set all the way around with jewels, rested upon her head.
Ystevan bowed gracefully, clearly quite at home in these surroundings and this company, as was to be expected. I attempted to curtsey with equal grace.
“Ah,” said the Queen, “so here is the little human you had to bring in. Let’s have a look at her, then.”
I took this to mean I should come closer, and did so, meeting the eyes of the elfin monarch as respectfully as possible.
“This one is many generations on, I suppose,” mused the Queen, after taking a close look at my face, “but I can still see something of Aramantha in her. You say you have taught her to speak?” The Queen was still clearly talking to Ystevan, and I could not quite quell a small sound of indignation at this last. Everyone in the room, the Queen included, looked at me. A ghost of a smile crossed the Queen’s face.
“So you talk, do you?” she asked me directly.
“Well, I don’t actually know your language, Your Majesty, but I can understand you.”
“So I see,” said the Queen. “Anyway, as kin, we will take good care of you until you can be returned home in safety. But I believe you have not come all this way on a mere search for distant relatives. Ystevan said you should explain it yourself, so tell me, child, what do you seek?”
“I seek healing for my father,” I replied resolutely.
The Queen fixed me with a look not unlike the one Ystevan had turned on me. She saw there was more to come. “What is the nature of his ailment?”
I refused to hesitate or swallow or do anything that would suggest I was ashamed of the subject. “Due to the nature of his affliction, Your Majesty, there are certain things that I must explain before I name it, so I beg your indulgence while I narrate how his sickness came about. But before I even do that, I wish you to know that my father, whatever he thinks of himself, is a good man. He is brave and strong and loyal, and he does many great works of charity with humility and modesty.”
I shot a look at Ystevan, whose face was a carefully non-committal mask.
“Ystevan has suggested that I am prejudiced in his favor because he is my father, and therefore I wish you to know that I never saw or heard of him in my life until four or five months ago, and have formed my opinion of him on rather better ground than childish worship.
“My father and I are both kin to you, and it is actually with this fact that I must start my story. As a result of his elfin blood, my father experienced the gift of foresight in regard to my mother, whom he had recently married, and with whom he was madly in love. I say madly, and I mean it. He clearly loved beyond all reason.”
I could tell I had the attention of everyone in the room, and continued, picking my words with exquisite care. “He foresaw that she would die of some untimely accident and his feelings for her were such that he was prepared to do anything to save her. It was his one great foolishness, and it led him to his one great crime. But I do not believe that one foolish action, least of all when blind with love and half mad with foresight, can outweigh a man’s true character and all his good. My father turned to sorcery to save my mother.”
A gasp and a physical recoil greeted my words, and I saw faces that had been listening with interest and sympathy close in anger and judgment. I could have screamed with frustration. It was happening again. Despite everything I had said, as soon as the word sorcery came out, they forgot everything!
“My mother prevented him from completing the sorcery,” I went on quickly, “and left him as well, which brought him to his senses. Since that day he has been truly penitent. But he pledged himself as security for the sorcery, and since it will never be completed, he has bare weeks left before it kills him. And if you have no pity for him, then show some pity for me. I lost my mother four years ago and was quite alone until I found my father. Please don’t let me lose the only person I have left! Please don’t leave me to be alone again!”
I felt in danger of becoming overwrought, and fought back tears, struggling to become more collected. “You must believe me when I say he is penitent. What he needs to complete the sorcery has actually come into his...possession, but he does not even think of carrying it out. He would rather die, and he will, if you won’t help him! If you won’t help me.”
I fell silent for a moment, then couldn’t help adding, “Please try and see beyond your natural abhorrence of sorcery! I loathe it, but we are not talking about a hardened, evil sorcerer, we are talking about a good man who made one mistake, many years ago.” I stopped speaking and waited in breathless silence.
The Queen’s lips were compressed, and she did not look very
amused. “A rather monumental mistake, dear child,” she said at last. “Surely you understand that there are some things from which there is no going back?”
My chin slid out mutinously. “Not so. Your Majesty. All those who truly repent are forgiven. It says so in the Bible. In the English and the Latin.” I faltered slightly as something occurred to me. “Although,” I went on, slightly embarrassed, “I don’t actually know what religion you follow here.”
The Queen just smiled slightly. “All are forgiven by God, child. There are some sins where the only thing to be done is hustle the individual off to God as fast as possible, and let him deal with them. One can’t let a sorcerer live! It’s not safe.”
“He is not a sorcerer!” I broke in, but the Queen just shook her head with something that scarcely warranted the title of regret.
“We have only your word for that, child, and the only solid evidence of this case is that your father has had recourse to sorcery. Therefore, he definitely comes into the category of those who are to be helped on their way if necessary. Helped to judgment, most definitely not helped to remain here!”
She was going to refuse, I could see it in her face, hear it in her voice.
“But I asked how to save him!” I cried, halfway between desperation and anger. “I prayed, and the answer was to come here, get your help! You must help me!”
The Queen looked at me for another long moment, her expression inscrutable. “And what precisely is it you seek, child? Would you state your request formally.”
An utter silence gripped the hall and I could feel everyone listening for my reply. Why was this important?
“I seek healing for my father,” I said after a moment, repeating my earlier words.
The Queen’s lips tightened slightly, as if this answer did not please her, but when she spoke again her voice was still firm as rock. “Child, I will not help your father or order any of my guardians to help your father. But regrettably, since you seek healing rather than the removal of sorcery, I cannot forbid anyone to help you.
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